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The shine of silver flashed in your eye as you pressed the blade of your pocket knife against your wrist. You thought you were done with hurting yourself, you told yourself you wouldn’t do it anymore. Yet here you were, sitting on the bathroom floor with a knife slowly sinking its way into your skin.
You hesitated for a brief moment. Your eyes fixated on the pale scars that were covering your arms. Did you really want to do this again? But the urge was too strong, it was as if you were being dragged along by a herd of horses, bare skin scraping on hot pavement; the only way to stop the pain was to give in.
So that is exactly what you did. You gave in. The metal blade was cold as it cut through your flesh. You barely winced, all too familiar with the sting of the action.
You moved the blade away, staring at the cut. Drops of blood flowed out, dripping from your forearm and falling onto the floor.
You sighed, making another. Then another. One more after that. On and on the cycle continued until you felt your forearm begin to feel numb.
You decided you were done, placing the knife on the sink counter and making an attempt to stand. However, judging by the pool of blood sitting on the ground, you could tell you wouldn’t be standing for a bit.
You slumped back onto the floor, leaning your head against the wall. You began to cry, letting hot tears run down your cheeks. I was doing so good, so so good. And I ruined it.
A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You decided to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would simply walk away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. “Hey, I know you’re in there.” It was Dazai.
The sound of his voice only caused you to cry more. He was so proud of you for not hurting yourself, for doing your best to resist the urges. Now here he was, standing outside the door after you had just cut your arm up like paper.
The door handle jiggled and slowly the door opened. “Are you alright?” Dazai poked his head in, noticing the state you were in. Your arm and the side of your white shirt were stained a deep red, your face was covered in tears.
“I-I’m sorry,” You barely managed to choke out an apology, as your throat was growing sore from the sobs.
He ignored your apology, sitting down beside you. “You know, I used to hurt myself too,” He began as he dug a roll of bandages from his pocket. “I keep these on me, for when I need to refresh my own.”
You watched as he carefully began to clean your arm with some warm water and soap. “I was never able to resist hurting myself. I enjoyed it, it was like an escape from reality,” He wrapped the bandage around your arm, being as careful as possible. “I don’t want to see you hurt yourself, not anymore.”
“I was doing so well, Dazai. I don’t know why I did this. I promised you, I promised myself,” You felt as though you were speaking gibberish to him, you couldn’t tell if he could understand you through the mess of sobs you were producing.
He finished with the bandage, adjusting his focus to your face. “Look at me.” You hesitated, glancing up at him. He carefully rested his hands on the sides of your face, brushing away the stray tears that fell. “You are doing amazing. I promise you, slipping up is okay. It takes time to break an old habit. Just please, don’t be so hard on yourself,” He pulled you into his chest, keeping you in a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”
You smiled slightly, wrapping your good arm around his torso. “Okay, let’s do it together.”